Oh What a One Shot!
by ddaybluedevil
Summary: Erin and Holtz share some sentimental moments on the journey of life. A collection of one shots which vary in clime, place and sometimes odd pieces that I like to write in the quiet moments. (mostly posted on AO3 so check there for new stuff, I update sporadically on here).
1. Chapter 1

Feburary 12th, 1963

Jillian sat back in her easy chair and pulled her pipe to her mouth. She kicked her wingtipped shoes on the table and wondered what would be an appropriate gift for someone like Erin. It wasn't like they had been dating for eighteen years or anything and yet, the Polish woman was at a loss. She remembered for their tenth anniversary of giving Erin the sweetheart charm which she had worked on in secret for six months.

The metal in the bracelet from her P-51, "Kurwa" had crashed in Northern France during Overlord and she remembered the French farmer who gave her some of the smaller metal hunks after recovering the wreck.

She had even done the engraving herself with the terrible line, "Come here often" with the date they had gotten together. February 14th, 1945. It was clichéd but they had met after Erin had returned from Poland and they got together in secret, eighteen years was something to celebrate.

Their fifteenth they had gotten another rat terrier named FDR and Stalin had been miffed about the second dog running around. Jill's leather shoes never stood a chance against the terror of Stalin and FDR.

Erin joked about getting a bulldog and naming him Churchill and Jillian groaned at the prospect. Her leather shoes would be reduced to ruin and Erin would still dote on them.

How could she get the love of her life a gift that would not tear her shoes at every turn?

She got up and turned on the wireless and groaned. They had been playing The Beatles non-stop and she wanted to shoot the wireless from this musical nonsense.

Erin would kill her if she harmed any of those chaps from Liverpool or shoot the wireless. Or blow up the hot plate. Or re-do the wiring in the doorbell to play the French national anthem.

"Hey, that gives me an idea!" She said to no one in particular.

FDR looked up from his basket at his owner who was getting up from an easy chair.

She got up from her easy chair and grabbed her overcoat along with her fedora. She picked up her keys from the small hook and walked out into the cool Ealing evening. She had time to get to one of the record stores and get the new album, Erin would love it.

* * *

February 14th, 1963

Erin sat down at the dining table with her tea and could barely wake up. She had worked three twenty-four hour shifts on the maternity ward and the last thing she needed was loud noise. She was in her house dress and looked up where was her irate Polish lover?

"Stalin-ergh stop it. Umm, Erin? Did you know FDR is really an Eleanor?" Holtz shouted from the upstairs and Erin sighed.

Great. Fantastic.

She sat there and finished her tea as she mustered the strength to deal with two rat terriers in heat and her useless lesbian.

Erin gets up and walks up there and she sighs at the sight that greets her. Jillian was trying to break up the two dogs who were in the mating position and rubbing against each other, hard.

The poor woman was struggling to get Stalin off who was nipping at her fingers.

Erin grabs Stalin and cradles him as Jillian catches her breath, swearing as she grabs the newly discovered Eleanor and brings her downstairs and out to the yard.

* * *

"Sorry about earlier. We barely get time off together and today's our anniversary, so here." Jillian said as she sat in her easy chair as she thrust her gift in Erin's general direction. Erin hesitantly took the gift and looked back at her girlfriend who had a smug smile on her face.

Oh, that was absolutely a smug smile.

She ripped the brown paper wrapping off and Erin gasped. She cradled the album. Did she really go out into Central London and face the screaming crowds to get the new Beatles album?

"Thank you, sweetheart. I promise to play this sparingly as long as you promise not to break the wireless or any other appliances? We all know what happened with the hot plate." Erin said handing Holtz her gift, giving her a knowing smile.

"Burn a dog once and your blacklisted for life from the kitchen. Humph." Jillian replied as she took the gift from Erin and looked at it.

It was a rectangular shape and Holtz ripped the paper off to reveal a Frog model kit of the Hawker Hunter.

The Hunter was one of the first transonic jets in the RAF and Holtzmann wished she could have flown one. The Jet Age was all Erin heard when it came to planes and she wanted Jillian to have a nice something to display in their home.

Her lover's jaw was agape with the surprise of getting such a special 1:72 scale model and it couldn't have been a better gift for an aviation nut.

"How did you-?" Jillian asked and it was Erin who was wearing the smug smile.

"You talk in your sleep dear and I wanted to get you something special." Erin said as she put her record to the side and walked over to Jillian.

"If you want your other gift doll, we should take this upstairs." Jill responded with a smirk as Erin sat down in her lap, peppering her neck with kisses.

"Ok, flyboy. Show me some of those special moves and I promise I have some of my own." Erin whispered in Jill's ear and they both shuddered a little at the promise of a good time.


	2. Tout Ira Bien

Chapter 2: Tout Ira Bien

Summary: Inspired by the song "Tout Ira Bien" from Jesus Christ Superstar Sixties Holtzbert deal with some accidents the only way they know how, with marijuana and their love for each other.

May 3rd, 1968

Erin sat at her desk as Jillian swung in and jumped on Erin's bed. There were Grateful Dead posters hung as tackily as possible across the room and Erin could only sigh. This was nothing new for Holtzmann to crash on her bed after a long day and they would spend the evening interwined, smoking pot and loving each other.

That had been Holtzmann's influence and her posters of The Beatles had given way to The Byrds and then The Raspberries. The two of them had been roomates since freshmen year and Holtz was the only one she wanted to share room with, the blonde could make some grade-a pot and Erin knew anyone else would rat her out. For someone who was not a chem major, she could certainly grow the leaf and that made them fast friends.

"Hey, get your awky combat boots off my damn comforter Holtzmann." Erin hissed from across the room.

"Sorry if my 'awky' boots just saved your ass from having to drop Francini's class by putting them on his desk during office hours and convincing him to keep you in Advanced Algebra." Holtz retorted as she kicked her boots off and stared at her love-no roommate.

"Are you always in a 'fuck the man' mood or is it just with me? Huh?" Erin said as she pushed her chair and looked at the blonde.

"I'm more of the 'fuck a woman' type?" Holtz replied with a smirk

"Not in those awky boots, not with those ratty clothes, fuck it I'll rip that shirt off later." Erin said as she stalked over there and looked at her roommate, no-wait girlfriend.

"Falling for the Holtzy charm, my babe?" Jillian asked with a raised eyebrow and slightly seductive pose.

"I have standards, boots and jacket. OFF YOU DEADHEAD!" Erin said firm as she slid on her bed and kicked her heels off, peeling her blazer off and smirking.

"I see you are a demanding mistress, Miss Gilbert." Holtz responded with a snort as she kicked her boots off and waited for Erin to get on the bed.

"I'm a future math teacher, dumbass." Erin retorted and gave her a light swat to the head.

"Ok, ok. Fair point but would a mathematician still use the word 'awky'?" Holtz asked as she hung her jacket on the end of Erin's bed.

"It's a thing in Battle Creek, not all of us are from Massachusetts. I-I'm happy we are good, you-make me happy." Erin said as Holtz held her hand close and gave her a knowing smile.

"I want to be more than good and you said you were thinking about it." Jillian replied as she stroked Erin's hair as they lay on the bed.

"I'm yours till the end, Holtz. I, it's my parents and when they find out I won't have a place to go back to. Hold me tighter." Erin said with a sigh as she pulled the cover over them.

"You'll have me." Jillian whispered as she kissed Erin's cheek and held her close.

They snuggled in the warmth of Erin's comforter, both wondering what the seventies had in store for them.

* * *

May 4th, 1968

"Jillian!" Erin hush-yelled as she ducked into the lab and ran to her injured friend. There was so much chaos outside that she was lucky to get to the Sciences building intact.

Finals brought out the worst in people, elections be damned. Patty was right, she was always right. The blonde was always working on slightly less legal substances and Patty always said she was going to blow them up someday.

"Erin, sorry about the mess" Holtz whispered as Erin ripped her jacket off and applied the pressure to the wound.

"Hold this." Erin hands her the coat and sighs as she presses her palm to Jillian's forehead.

"I really could use some pot right about now." Holtz said as Erin puts her on her shoulder as they walk back to the dorm.

"Is pot all you ever think about?" Erin asked with a raised eyebrow as Holtz gave her a look.

"I think about you, pot, the amazing guitar stylings of Jerry Garcia, and you." Jillian retorted and Erin had to smile at that, she loved her girlfriend even when she was annoying and okay, Jerry Garcia is an okay guitarist, Erin had to concede on that.

"Are we gonna be okay?" Jillian asked as Erin looked at the blonde's arm as she tied a knot in her coat bandage as they neared Tucker Hall.

"Yes, we'll get some ACE bandages and I'm sure Doctor Gorin can understand why you were late." Erin said as she helped Jillian limp on the stairs up to Tucker and the two of them would be okay.

"Bientôt tout ira bien", Patty would have said to them as they walked up the stairs.

Bientôt tout ira bien (Soon it will be okay) and they would be, it would be okay. The road would be long but soon it will be okay.

Notes: As I finished writing this, I found out my great aunt passed away and I cannot help but feel saddened at her passing. I wanted to get this up before I go and sort things out with family and cousins. She was one of the people who encouraged me when I was in a 'dark' place. Without her, I do not know what would have happened. She encouraged me to write poetry and she is the reason why I can write today. Thank you, merci, danke.  
Enjoy and cherish every moment, every sandwich and each other.


	3. Woodstock or the Summer of the Twinkie

Another 60's oneshot starring Holtzbert , Woodstock, motorcycles, munchies and a big ass Twinkie.  
Same verse' as the previous one shot. ENJOY!

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

August 10th, 1969

Erin looked over her small bag that she had packed and was skeptical of these tickets Holtzmann had wrangled at one of her local haunts. She was excited to be going to Woodstock, no doubt but she is worried about how long it would take them to get there from Yaphank. She looked at her map again and saw the red circle over the farm where the festival is being held.

"Hey Mama, looking at our route? I promise not to eat any Pringles on our way up there." Holtzmann said as she sauntered over with her big army pack and sat on the motorcycle as Erin glared at her.

"I am glad you asked. Jillian, you did pack more than just-that?" Erin asked as Holtz looked at her clothes, grinned and looked back at Erin.

She was wearing her regular Deadhead shirt and favorite beat-up army jacket, nametape still attached and some worn jeans with some beat up paratrooper boots. Her goggles dangled around her neck as she turned to look at Erin and put the bag on the back of the bike

"Babe, I did. Oh, and I packed us a tent, some wool blankets, my brother's sleeping bag, and your favorite burberry coat and some other essentials. Pringles, Twinkies, Ding-Dongs and there is some Chef Boyardee for you. Plus, I stashed some pot in here. Approve of those groovy threads you have there, babe."

Erin was wearing her jeans from Sears and her top was a simple flower design, she knew Holtz approved as it showed off her stomach and Holtz had her "reasons". She had opted for the more comfortable sneakers and sighed as she helped Holtzmann strap the bigger bag on the rack behind her.

"Oh, come here you." Erin said as she pulled Holtz in for a kiss, yanking her by the goggles. The kiss went on for a few more minutes than necessary but Jillian smiled as they broke apart

"Well hello there Lawdy Mama, haven't seen you in a while. You are making my motor run." Jillian said with a sigh as she kicked the engine to life and the vibrations shook them both.

Erin quipped, "Well, you know how it goes. Take the world in a love embrace and explode into space."

They situate themselves on Holtz's bike and head out to the festival that would change their lives and summer of loving that would change their lives.

* * *

August 16th, 1969

After the rain, Erin finally found Jillian after being in the muddy stage where Janis Joplin had been playing. She found her woman sitting next to a bunch of fellow Deadheads and they had started a small fire. It was chilly evening, Jill waved for her to sit down and Erin did so, bringing the blanket around them.

"You're so pretty. I mean, I've always thought you were pretty but I'm like REALLY looking at you now and, oh my god, you're so beautiful. I love you, my babe. Want one?" Jillian asked as she puffed a cloud of smoke and kissed Erin's neck, the sticky sweet smell clinging to them both.

"Sure, what about the motel?" Erin asked as she pulled the blanket closer around them.

"Motel-schmotel. I have all I want with me right here and I don't need a bed when I have you. Here."

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive back, there's sheets and a nice toilet." Erin said as she held the joint nervously.

"Erin, do you want to go back?" Jillian asked with sincerity in her voice and took the joint back, gently.

"Yes, please."

"Ok."

* * *

Erin drives the motorcycle back with some help from a stoned Holtz, well more like Jill just groped her boobs a lot more than usual. That was fine, as they pulled into the small motel parking lot. Holtz was high and she always got clingy with her, not that Erin minded at all. Erin helps Holtz off the bike as they walk toward the room.

"I lost my key, no. No. I can't lose this jam." Holtz said with a frown as she tried to find a key that she definitely did not have.

"Holtzy? I have it, relax and take it easy." Erin replied and pulled the key out of her jean pocket.

Erin knew better than to trust a high Holtzmann with a key. Patty had still not recovered from the "Bender of 67'" and still did not trust Holtz with any keys. Who knew a single dorm key and one Deadhead could unleash so much havoc?

They walk into the room and Jillian ran into the bathroom, smirking as she went, "Be out in a minute babe." Erin sits daintily on the bed and kicks her shoes off, she then takes off her shirt and lay back into the bed. She sighs softly and stretches back after a long day of peace, love, and music.

"Am I high- or are you an angel? I feel-I have a lady woody and the munchies right now and man if I don't jam this jam out." Jillian told her as she walked out of the bathroom and smiled goofily.

"I'm all yours baby. Let's jam and you can eat me, see? I fixed both of your problems." Erin said as she reached for her Jill, pulling the woman on the bed and holding the blonde's head softly and laying it on her chest, pulling her Deadhead closer as they lay together.

"Hold on, I really need a Twinkie." Jillian said as she hopped up and Erin glared at her as she got up and hunted for the treat. The blonde went over and grabbed a big box before pulling out one big Twinkie and munching on it as she walked back to the bed with her well-earned treat.

"Happy? Can we continue now or should I stop and grab a Ding-Dong? That is a big Twinkie. " Erin said with a smirk as she crawled on top of Jillian, smiling like a cat.

"This is a dream come true and I am very happy. I couldn't get much higher right now." Jillian replied as she curled closer into Erin and felt the softness of the sheets.

"Free love baby, now aren't you hungry for someone other than Mr. Twinkie?" Erin said with a smirk as she peppered kisses up and down her lover's neck.

"Aw, lawdy mama!" Jill screamed as she dropped her Twinkie and both of them got a little higher that night.

Notes: You can thank my music history professor for this as we watched a Woodstock documentary and I thought it would make a good one shot. (outlined in class, finished on a group day and just now posting it. The end of October was batshit crazy for me). Hehe, yes 60's Holtzbert is my jam and no, not like that. Hehe. I may pen the "Bender of 67'" later, just know there was a key, a stoned Holtz, and shit went down man. Hope you enjoyed that and hit that kudos button in the face. If YOU ENJOYED IT, drop a line in that comment section.


End file.
